


Fair Queen Iskraeon

by Red_Cheshire



Series: Gifts [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: "Look like the innocent flower, Creepy Atmosphere, Friend Fiction, Hell Queen, Purple Prose, a tribute to Isk, but be the serpent underneath", fanfic about a friend's online persona, this was fun to write, though a bit bitey and "oh gods why have i done this to myself"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 23:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Cheshire/pseuds/Red_Cheshire
Summary: Iskraeon, though the sweeter of the two Hell Queens, is just as cruel as her fellow. To spread angst and torment brings the young Queen such pleasure.





	Fair Queen Iskraeon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheIskraeon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIskraeon/gifts).



The fires of the braziers cast flickering light, scarcely piercing the darkness of the great hall. Tall stone pillars, thick as ancient trees, cast thicker shadows upon the shattered bones of usurpers and petitioners at their roots, the ceiling they held so distant all above was black as the Abyss.

All in the great hall was silent, echoes themselves still from fear, but for the twists and whirls of the flames and the soft crackle of glowing embers. Faint whispers of sobs and cries carried on the wind to the ears of the sole inhabitant, a sudden scream bringing lips into a sweet smile.

She who bore such a smile could, for a moment, have been mistaken for a lost young maiden. Her fiery, blood, red, hair brushed her shoulders and she tapped a finger against the hilt of the stygian hilt of the sword resting against the side of the throne.

In her sanctuary, carved deep into the stone heart of Pandemonium, with its gilded mosaics of her ever-watchful and ever-wrathful Hounds, the young Queen Iskraeon sat upon her throne. Upon her fiery locks lay a crown of blackest stygian metal.

Fair Iskraeon’s gaze lay heavy and beyond the flames in front of her as shadows twisted along the abyssal black of her gown, as the golden thread shimmered from the flickering light. The young Queen reached out with a gentle beckoning, and the currently feline figure of Void darted in seconds from the gates to her lap.

The ever-hungry Void curled up in the young Queen’s lap, cooing as fingers brushed through grey fur and the scrying flames before her twisted and writhed. Distant cries on the wind seethed in despair, becoming howling screams and broken wails.

“It seems we’ve been offered a challenge, my darlings,” Iskraeon crooned, her smile angelic with the promise of pain.


End file.
